Thursday day was a blur of unpacking and running back to the old house for things that we didn't want the movers to transfer (electronics, etc.) and to start the final clean-up before the painters and carpeters come and we put the place on the market. Friday was more of the same, but we took time on Friday evening to make a proper meal in our new kitchen--yummy meatloaf. At that time we noticed a little odor of gas which we shrugged off; the gas smells a bit when you first turn on a burner. Besides, the smell of the meatloaf filled the air. Exhausted, we went off to bed. We got up early the next day to the overwhelming smell of gas, so we called the gas company, who advised us that a tech. guy was on his way and to get out of the house immediately. We stood around in our pajamas in confusion processing this information and wondering where our glasses and keys were and if we should take the cars out of the garage. At that point the gas guy showed up with his wand and meter and shouted at us "get out of this house, don't make any phone calls or turn on any lights." Seems we were in far greater danger than we realized, and we could have blown up! Seems also the lame previous homeowner decided to substitute or fix the old gas range that conveyed with the place by installing a part inexpertly. Words fail me--even though I have the vocabulary of a sailor IRL generally--when I contemplate the danger that person put us in to save a few bucks.
But all is well now, things are largely put away in the new place, and the old house is looking clean and spiffy (I've been putting about five hours a day into the place while I'm still on vacation). We bought a nifty new electric skillet until we can get a new range delivered sometime next week and went grocery shopping for food that can be cooked in the microwave or the skillet in the meantime. This morning we woke up to this:
Tonight I am finally, finally picking up my needle after almost a week away from my needlework and stitching in my new needlework room. Later, I might soothe away my aches and pains with a bath in my new tub.
This is a UFO I pulled from my stash. I can't remember what it's called, although I would imagine it's probably "Watermelons." It's from a book that I loaned out or lost long ago, but fortunately, I made a working copy of the chart so I could tote it around. I haven't finished it (I started it probably 20 years ago) because it's on aida, not my favorite cloth to work on. But it seems a shame for it to languish in a drawer, so I'm going to try to get it finished soon.